


How to Catch a Legendary, Become Champion, and Rule the World

by Miss_Starstorm



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Gen, Legendary Pokemon - Freeform, Original Character Death(s), Pokemon Death, Pokemon Journey, Team Rocket - Freeform, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Starstorm/pseuds/Miss_Starstorm
Summary: Despite having no opportunities left in life, a former Team Rocket grunt stumbles across the chance of a lifetime, and a sure-fire way to immediate fame and fortune. What could possibly go wrong? Surprisingly, everything.





	How to Catch a Legendary, Become Champion, and Rule the World

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, hope you enjoy reading. I haven't written any Pokemon fics for a few years, so hopefully, I'm not rusty at this. This is meant to be a more realistic take on the whole 'trainer catches a legendary' plot or whatever they're called.
> 
> All reviews, including concrit, will be greatly appreciated.

* * *

I didn't realize my day could get worse until I'm tied up in sticky silk, my money's gone, and my pride's destroyed from getting my butt whipped by a bug catcher with a caterpie.

Man, I can just imagine my conversation with Grandpa tonight:

**_Grandpa:_ ** _So, Madeline. How was your day? Have you found somewhere to work yet?_

**_Me:_** _Oh, let's see... got rejected by the Game Corner_ yet again,  _tried to steal someone's pidgeotto and failed, lost all my money, and got thrashed by some nine-year-old. With just a caterpie. Yeah, my day was great, thanks for asking. So, how was yours?_

But hey, the story of my life, I guess.

If I could travel back in time, I'll tell myself that it would be stupid to join Team Rocket. I only did because it looked awesome and I got to win easy battles. And because I liked the grunt uniforms. Taking over Silph Co and Saffron was also awesome; I got to scare the daylights out of innocent civilians. But then that kid from Pallet came along and ruined everything. And thanks to him I'm watching my piggy bank drain dry by losing to the local Celadon trainers. How did I go from a decent (well, as decent as you can get) Team Rocket grunt to a pathetic loser who gets beaten by eight-year-olds?

I guess I can put the blame on Hondew for being, well, the most goddamn useless pokemon in existence.

Gritting my teeth, I wriggle around inside the web, my face boiling and I'm praying to whatever legendary existing no one on Route 7 walks past to see me like this. Hondew lies beside me, his short pink fur covered with dirt. He rolls across the ground with the breeze, the skinny grass stems on top of his head flapping side to side.

I shoot him a filthy glare as I try curling into a ball, hoping it would loosen the silk. It doesn't.

Okay, I'm being mean. It's not entirely Hondew's fault. I mean, he can't help being a hoppip. And it's not like I can ditch him. Sure I'm Team Rocket, but I'll never abandon my starter. I hatched him from an egg when I was five and I'm not throwing away seven years of bonding just because he once lost to a magikarp. And I can't use my grunt pokemon in battle either. If they get injured, I'll have to take them to the pokemon center and the nurse will check their OT and discover they're Team Rocket pokemon. I guess I could evolve Hondew into a skiploom, but I don't think that would work-

"Hey, you!"

I groan, dropping my head into the ground, wishing it would open and swallow me. Is this karma?

A shadow falls over my vision and I lift my head. A silhouette looms over me, blocking out the sun. The silhouette moves and crouches forward, bracing his hands on his knees. It's a youngster, sections of his hair standing up like a pidgey's nest and bandages covering both knees.

"You're a trainer, right?" he says, pointing at me. "Then I challenge you to a battle!"

Ugh.

He takes a few steps back, reaching for his belt and whipping out a pokeball. Grinning, he tosses the ball into the air and it bursts open, a white blob racing from the ball. The light shifts and turns into a rattata. The rattata lands on the ground on all fours, before sitting and glancing at me, cocking her head and twitching her whiskers. Squeaking, she then glances at the youngster.

"So we're battling?" I sigh.

"Yeah!" He holds up a hand.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Mind getting me out of this first?" I smirk, but only to save myself some level of dignity. Hondew's gonna lose to the rattata, after all.

The youngster nods, his gaze darting to Ratty. "Get her out, Ratty."

Ratty? I smile. Adorable. Ratty rushes towards me, raising her paws and swiping it across the strings. Pieces of silk fly into the air, raining onto the grass and I turn my face away, squirming against the cocoon. The silk loosens before it crumbles away and Ratty backs away, sitting down a few feet away and pulling stray silk from her claws.

I rise to my feet, nodding in gratitude to the youngster.

"Let's battle! Ratty, I chose you!" Ratty squeaks in response and leaps onto her paws, crouching and staring at me.

I point at Hondew. "This is my only pokemon."

"Don't you have any medicine or something?" The youngster crosses his arms and frowns.

I shake my head.

He doesn't respond at first. After a couple seconds, he throws his hands into the air and huffs, before reaching for his backpack and pulls out a revive and potion. He tosses them at me and I catch them with both hands. Crouching beside Hondew, I smear the revive over his coat and he regains conscious. He grins when his gaze meets mine, waving his arms around in the air. Pushing down on his little legs he leaps upwards, rubbing his head against my chin before dropping back onto my lap. Laughing, I spray the potion on his wounds and they fade.

"We're battling," I say, pointing at Ratty and the youngster.

Hondew's grin vanishes from his face. He leaps off my lap and hops towards them, curling his lip back into a snarl. Ratty tilts her head to one side and inches closer. Hondew snaps his fangs at her and Ratty backs away, but she continues staring at Hondew with wide eyes and a tilted head.

"So, you ready to start?" The youngster is tapping his foot against the ground, mouth twisted into a pout.

I lift my face towards the sky, curling my fists by my side. The wind's stopped... for now.

"Yeah, finally!" The youngster's pout turns into a smile and he tosses his hands into the air. "Ratty, tackle."

Ratty leans back on her haunches and leaps forward like a spring, charging towards Hondew. Hondew jumps sideways, staggering and waving his arms about to keep his balance. Ratty twists around and charges at him again, smashing into him. Hondew rockets backwards, slamming into a tree trunk, bouncing off and floating into the air. When he drifts back down to the ground, he shakes his fur and his ears flicker back.

I glance upwards, cursing under my breath when I notice clouds are now covering the sun. Synthesis won't work. "Uh, use splash."

Hondew nods, leaping into the air. But as he twists his body to drop back to the ground, the wind picks up. Hondew screams as he's tossed even higher, vanishing into the branches of a tree.

The youngster gapes, and I drop my face into my hands, my cheeks burning.

An alarmed squeak sounds from the tree. I hurry over, my eyes falling on Hondew stuck between some branches. His stubby arms and legs flail. Groaning, I jump up, supporting my weight from one hand as I yank him free from the branches with the other.

"Sorry 'bout that." I drop back to the ground, Hondew in my arms.

The youngster huffs, standing with arms akimbo.

I let Hondew go, and he floats upwards, the wind pushing him further into the sky. He squeaks, eyes wide, arms flapping. Ratty yawns and scratches behind her ear with her hind leg.

"Wait until he comes back down, and then use tackle," the youngster says. Ratty stops in mid-scratch, glancing up at Hondew before nodding.

But we spend the next five minutes in awkward silence. The youngster huffs like a steam train and crosses his arms, his mouth drawn into a scowl. I keep my gaze peeled to the ground, my face warm. Ratty's curled into a ball, snoring and tail twitching in her sleep. Eventually, the wind settles and Hondew floats closer to the ground. He squeaks and waves his arms around in victory, a smile spreading across his face.

"Use tackle!"

Ratty squeaks in surprise, jumping to her paws. Eyes wide, she hurries forward, almost bumping into the fence. The wind picks up again and Hondew screams as the wind throws him towards Ratty. Hondew and Ratty collide and Ratty screams, tumbling across the ground. The force also knocks Hondew sideways, and he screeches as he spins around in mid-air. He keeps going until he flies into a bush and doesn't resurface.

"Hondew?" I call. Ratty shakes off the dust, eyes wide, and whiskers trembling.

A squeak sounds from the bush.

I groan and drop my face in my hands.

 

The nurse fixes me with a glare as I present Hondew to her, his body limp in my hands.

Without taking her eyes off me she grabs him. "You should train him if he keeps fainting."

I sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. We've had this discussion before. "You know he stands no chance with the wild pokemon around here. And he only knows splash and synthesis."

"And I've told you before. It's your responsibility to train him. I've recommended you to go to Johto to visit the trainer school in Violet City. They'll help you." She pauses. "If this keeps up, I'll confiscate your hoppip and give him to a more responsible trainer."

I stay silent, my blood turning to ice at the thought. Gritting my teeth I lower my head, breaking eye contact with the nurse. Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

I must visit Saffron's pokemon center from now on instead of coming here all the time. I only come here because it's easier to travel to Route 8 from Celadon and vice versa via the Underground Path.

The nurse shakes her head, jutting out her bottom lip in disgust. She asks for Hondew's ball and I hand it to her. She recalls him and puts him into the machine. The screen lights up with a green glow, Hondew's silhouette appearing in the middle and flashing.

After the healing's complete she hands the ball back. The ball splits open and Hoppip jumps out, landing on the floor and looking around. He frowns and bites his arm, confused as to why he's in the pokemon center. But he comes to his senses soon; every time a trainer or pokemon dares stray near him, he lets out a hiss and a snarl and they frown and retreat after a moment, gazing at him with alarm.

"Your hoppip is incredibly unfriendly," the nurse says as if she thinks I'm dumber than a rhyhorn. She narrows her eyes. "However, I've noticed his affection levels are very high."

"Which is a good thing, right?" I say.

The nurse shakes her head and presses her lips together, making her look even  _more_ disgusted with me. Then she starts another one of her stupid lectures, ranting about me being an 'irresponsible' trainer, of pokemon being our friends and not tools and blah, blah, blah. I huff, breaking eye contact and looking away with a frown. What's her problem now? Why is it a bad thing if my starter's affectionate but unfriendly? So when she's finally done (not without screaming at me for not listening) I leave without a word or backward glance. Hondew hops beside me, snarling at everyone in his vision. I the nurse's still glaring at me, but it doesn't bother me. As long as he doesn't realize I'm a former Team Rocket grunt, let her think what she wants to think. Her opinion of me doesn't affect my life.

I reach into my backpack, pulling out my pokepuff case. "Want a pokepuff?"

Hondew squeals, waving his arms in the air. Smiling, I crouch beside him and take off the lid, handing him a basic mint one. Grass types love mint pokeuffs, so I've never been surprised it's also Hondew's favorite. He takes it and shoves it all in his mouth, munching and swallowing it. Then he peers at the case, trying to reach for another one.

"No, later." I put the lid back on and he pouts. Rolling my eyes at his expression, I return the pokepuff case. Hondew also liked the green pokebean we received as a gift a few years ago after Grandpa went on a vacation in Alola, but since they only grow on a special tree there, it's expensive to import to Kanto. However, pokepuffs are mass produced and sold everywhere.

When we step outside the pokemon center, I grab Hondew and clutch him to my chest, not wanting to chase him all over the city in case he gets blown away again. Hondew snuggles into my chest, purring. It's a good thing he's got his face hidden away, otherwise, he'd notice the people streaming past and he'll hiss like a terrified meowth. Some people carry shopping bags from splurging at the department store, others are eager-faced trainers carrying pokeballs ready to take down Erica. A man's running and yelling after a vulpix taking off with his hat, and two boys are challenging each other to a battle near the Game Corner.

As I'm getting closer to home, I come across Celadon Mansion.

I pause and glance at it, rubbing my chin. I've broken into Celadon Mansion a few times at night, but unfortunately, I couldn't get my hands on anything interesting. But that had been months ago and maybe there's now something interesting inside. I mean, who knows? Maybe this time I'll be able to get my hands on a really rare pokemon I can sell on the black market, like a farfetch'd or a squirtle. You can't catch 'em in the wild, so they'll bring in the real dough. Well, maybe not the squirtle; cute pokemon like that are common enough they'll sell for nothing. But I definitely could get something from the farfetch'd, even if it's someone who wants to eat it. Or maybe I'll find a powerful pokemon, like a dratini. Then I can train it so I can crush all the other trainers.

And the thought of crushing trainers is enough to make me grin. I stride forwards, heading back home, flexing my fingers as I swing my arms by my sides.

I'm breaking into Celadon Mansion tonight.

 

When it's time to go, I shove pillows beneath my quilt, wrap a blanket around a basketball so it looks as if I'm lying in bed if Grandpa checks on me, and leave the window open a crack so I can get in without an issue.

I peel my pajamas off my old grunt uniform. It's a size too small now, but I don't own anything else I could wear. I leave the house with a black cap, a small backpack hanging off one shoulder, and two bobby pins in my jacket pocket. I've attached Rattata and Zubat's balls to my belt; these days, I only let them out of their pokeballs when I'm stealing something. After all, if I run into trouble, Hondew will be useless.

It's a chilly night, with black clouds rolling across the half moon, the air an icy gale biting into my skin and I shiver, running my hands up and down my arms. Despite being the dead of the night Celadon's still bursting with life, building windows lit yellow and voices and laughter sprinkled in the air. Some gamers lurk around the game corner, guzzling down beer and jumping off park chairs and there are a few people kissing, ew. Gagging, I look away and quicken my pace.

I hope none of these people will be an issue, otherwise-

"Hey! Hold it!"

Darn it.

I turn around and I'm blinded by a flashlight. I squint and hold up my hand, trying to shield my poor eyes from the light. A cop comes into view, frowning as she gazes at my uniform.

I resist the urge to groan. I hoped I could get through tonight without a pokemon battle.

"Why are you dressed like a Team Rocket member?" Her gaze snaps back up to my face. "Hey, you're just a kid. What's a kid doing out here at this time of night?"

"It's just a costume," I say, shrugging and trying to act nonchalant. "And I'm going to my friend's place."

She repeats her question, and her eyebrows knit together.

I gulp. "Yes, I'm going to my friend's place."

The cop shakes her head. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead. I live with my grandfather and younger sister."

She blinks. "Oh. Where's your grandfather, then?"

"At home, sleeping."

"And where do you live?"

"Celadon City."

The cop narrows her eyes, standing akimbo. "You being a smartass, kid?"

"You should've seen my grades at school."

The cop grabs a pokeball from her belt. "Listen, kid, I don't want to hurt you, but if you continue being a smartass I will have no choice."

"Are you challenging me to a battle?"

The cop fixes me with a glare, then presses the button on the ball. "Go, Charcoal!"

The ball snaps open and a growlithe bursts out of the ball. The growlithe fixes me with a glare as he leans close to the ground, and he curls his lip back into a snarl.

I grab Zubat's ball. "Go, Zubat!"

Zubat flies out of the ball with a squall, his wings flapping furiously as he darts towards the growlithe. The growlithe's glare shifts towards Zubat. But his fur remains flat on his back, and Zubat hasn't cowered away. I sigh with relief. Flash fire, not intimidate.

"Zubat, use supersonic."

"Charcoal, ember."

Zubat zips closer, white rays bursting from his mouth. Charcoal leaps aside, paws digging against the ground and sending up dirt. Opening his mouth, he tosses his head back before launching a ball of fire towards Zubat. The ball hits Zubat and Zubat shrieks, racing away from Charcoal.

"Supersonic, again."

Zubat groans, but does as he told. He whirls around and rushes towards Charcoal, spitting another set of white rays. Charcoal leaps forward, ducking his head to dodge the rays, but he stumbles over a rock and the rays clip him against the ear. Charcoal staggers to a halt and sits, looking up at Zubat with wide, blank eyes. His body sways from left to right and his ears stand perched upright.

The cop swears. "Use bite."

Charcoal staggers forward, tripping over another rock and landing with a heavy thud on the ground. The cop swears again.

Now's my chance. "Zubat, frustration."

Zubat's body glows red, and he tucks in his wings and dives towards Charcoal. He opens his mouth wide, fangs flashing as he crunches down on Charcoal's throat. Charcoal yelps, but Zubat doesn't stop; he bites harder and Charcoal's yelp is silenced. Then he gives his wings a huge thrust downwards and soars into the air with Charcoal dangling from his mouth. When they climb high enough Zubat opens his mouth and Charcoal falls to the ground, landing with a loud thud. His fur around his neck dyed with blood, Charcoal lets out one last howl before he loses conscious, his head lolling sideways.

Zubat floats above his body, his body returning to his normal blue.

I take the opportunity to get out of here.

It's illegal to run from a trainer battle, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I race towards the east exit of Celadon City, Zubat flying by my side and the cop yelling at me to freeze or she'll shoot. I dart out of sight, winding in between the trees so I can reach the back entrance of Celadon Mansion. If I'm going to rob Celadon Mansion, that will be my best bet.

I stay there for a few minutes, waiting to see if the cop will show. But she doesn't. Breathing a sigh of relief, I grab my sunglasses from my bag and make my way towards Celadon Mansion.

Celadon Mansion stands silent, the windows dark. Its residents must be asleep. Looking around, I try figuring out which window to use; last time I came here I snuck in through a window, so I'm guessing that would be my best bet. So grabbing a branch above my head, I lift myself upwards, swinging my legs onto the branch, the bark scraping against my bare hands. I bite back a wince as I shift up the branch and closer to one of the windows, pressing my hand against the glass, only to gasp back a yelp and withdraw it. The glass felt like ice. So I glance around the edges of the window, seeing if there's something I can use to let myself in.

Nothing.

Huffing, I creep back down the branch, clambering onto another one to reach another window. Unlike the first one, this one has a latch on the inside, but it's locked. Should I just break the glass? No, I'll wake someone up. So instead, I scale down the tree and drop to the ground. Twigs and leaves crack under my feet as I pace up and down the back of the house, eyes falling on a small door nearby.

I approach the door and try the doorknob. Also locked. Oh well, looks like I'm gonna have to break in. It's no sweat, I've done it many times in the past, but sometimes it's still annoying. So I take out my bobby pins, straightening one and forcing the other into an L shape. I shove the one shaped like an L into the lower part of the keyhole, twisting it around. Then I slip in the straightened pin, probing each binding pin. And then the lock clicks and I smirk. Bingo.

I inch the door open, wincing as it lets out a long creak. Squinting through the dark, I reach into my pocket and pull out my mini flashlight. Clicking on the button the flashlight bursts to life, illuminating the room in a white glow. I'm looking into some sort of tiny, bare room, with ceramic tiles and a long staircase in the corner.

Looks as if I have no choice but to go up the stairs.

I tiptoe into the room, making sure to lift my feet from the ground in fear that if I drag my feet it'll be too loud. Straining my ears I make my way across the room, aware of every little sound my shoes make against the tiles, every churn inside the walls. I reach the staircase and creep up it, keeping my back bent and eyes narrowed in case something jumps at me. My fingers curl around Zubat's ball, ready to use his supersonic if need be.

When I reach the top of the staircase my legs are hurting and I have to stop for a moment to catch my breath. The wind batters against my body and I shiver, realizing I've stepped outside. My long purple hair whips around my face, and I tuck stray strands behind my ear so I can see. Nearby there's a penthouse. I narrow my eyes. I've never seen this penthouse before.

Maybe there's something interesting inside.

I make my way over to the penthouse, scanning the area and to my luck, there are no cameras around. Grinning, I approach the door and press down on the door handle, but it's locked. So I take out my boppy pins and pick the lock again. When I try the door handle this time, the door opens with a loud creak.

Inside is a small, single room, pot plants dotted around the corners and a few photographs stuck to the walls. I clamber down the steps and make my way over to the photos. One is of a family, the mum and dad standing with a small boy with purple hair and smirk and a small girl with platinum blonde hair and giving the boy bunny ears. The boy clutches a squirming riolu to his chest, and a silver eevee sits by the girl's feet. I roll my eyes. Rich people. The second photo has the same girl, but older now, maybe around my age. She's crouching beside an umbreon with blue rings instead of yellow. She holds up a badge case containing eight gleaming badges I don't recognize. When I notice the third I burst out laughing: this one is of a boy sitting on a park bench, being photobombed by a ditto.

I turn away from the photos, noticing a table on the other side of the room. Sitting on top of it is a small rock and a familiar, purple and pink pokeball.

My heart drops to my stomach.

I've seen a pokeball like that before. When Team Rocket took over Saffron and Silph Co, Giovanni announced he wanted one—a prototype at the time—in his possession. I never knew what happened to it after the kid defeated us, but I heard the rumors circulating around the other grunts. It could catch any pokemon without fail.

It's a masterball.

I approach the ball with slow steps, feeling oddly light and unable to tear my gaze from it. My breath catches in my lungs as I reach for it, my hand shaking. The ball's a smooth cold metal and feels heavy in my hand. My gaze snaps around the room, my body tensing, and I get the weird feeling something's gonna jump at me. Swallowing thickly I raise the ball to my ear. Nothing, it's silent. It has to be empty. I lower the ball and study it. The M above the button looks fresh as if recently painted on, and the pink and purple coat gleams under my flashlight's beam. There's no scratches on it, nor any dust.

It can't be the prototype Giovanni wanted. Silph Co must've produced more, sometime after we disbanded.

My eyes fall on a newspaper sitting next to the rock. I pick it up, realizing it's a copy of the Saffron Gazette, dated two years ago. Splashed across the front page is a photo of Silph Co and the headline screams TEAM ROCKET BLAST OFF: BOY FROM PALLET SAVES THE DAY.

Gritting my teeth I fold the newspaper back up and place it back on the table, not wanting to remind myself of that day. That kid—Red, or whatever he's called—stormed through Silph Co, knocking out grunt after grunt with a dumb electric rat and a fat dinosaur plant. I faced him and he knocked both Rattata and Zubat out with that ugly pikachu, and the kid hadn't said a word during the whole ordeal. The kid apparently went on to become the Champion, and then ditched his title to Lance and vanished. People still like to speculate about him, but I don't listen to that garbage. He's obviously a freak who thinks he's too good for everyone else (if he wasn't, why wouldn't he talk?) Even if he wasn't a rude, arrogant douche, I'd still hate him anyway.

I was one of the luckier grunts; most of us were arrested, but I managed to ditch my uniform, steal some other girl's clothes, and escaped from the city. I could use my age as an excuse to pass as an innocent civilian wanting to go to Celadon for shopping. It wasn't unheard of for Team Rocket to recruit other kids my age, but most members were teens or adults, which was why the police probably assumed I was telling the truth. I kept in contact with another grunt for a few months after. He had been a thirteen-year-old orphan from Fuchsia City, who ran away to escape from his terrible foster home. One day, he told me he was going after Red with a few other lucky grunts to make him pay for what he did to Team Rocket, but we lost contact after that. I often wonder what happened to him. Hopefully, he's alive and well.

Shaking myself out of my memories, I glance back at the masterball. Now, what do I do with it? Well, I suppose it's mine now. No one would know it's gone; after all, who would be  _that_ stupid to leave something so valuable out here? Maybe it's a fake. Perhaps someone bought a random pokeball and painted it with a master ball design for shits and giggles. There has to be some sort of catch. Perhaps there still is only one masterball left in the world, and it's not this one.

But... what if I'm wrong? What if it's legit? I know I can't sell it; I remember Giovanni telling us grunts that masterballs aren't for sale anywhere. But... I could catch any pokemon I want. A pokemon that is truly powerful. A pokemon that I can train up to either beat the Elite Four, or one I can sell on the black market that is so valuable I can make a fortune.

Or maybe...

I can catch a legendary.

As soon as the idea pops into my mind I burst out laughing incredulously, tossing my head back and placing a hand on my stomach. Good one, Madeline. You think you could catch some sort of deity—some creature that may or may not exist?

It's such a stupid idea.

And yet... there's still something really appealing about it.

What if legendary pokemon really existed? After all, there's strong evidence that Mewtwo and Mew exist, with photos and diary entries found at Cinnabar Island. If Mewtwo and Mew existed, what about other legendaries? Like Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres? Or those Sinnoh gods I've heard about?

I close my eyes, imagining myself beating Lance's team down with some sort of monstrous beast possessing godly powers, standing in the Hall of Fame, on top of the world. Invincible. Everyone talking about me and whispering my name with awe and fear. I would be unstoppable.

I would have a  _future._ I could be someone, other than the loser former Team Rocket grunt with useless pokemon and who can't get a job. I wouldn't have to steal to get by. I'd be drowning in money and the most powerful trainer in existence. Sure some may think it's cheating, but it's more of a shortcut if anything.

It may be stupid, hell, society would think it's  _immoral,_ Grandpa would freak if he knew what I was thinking, but it may be the only shot I have left. After all, it doesn't matter if it's  _immoral_ or not; I'm was part of Team Rocket, and I do whatever I like. I have to try.

So I must catch a legendary pokemon.

And since I know for sure it must exist, that legendary will be Mewtwo. I doubt it'll upset any super scary ultra legendary, since Mewtwo is man-made and probably not even considered legendary by those guys or whatever, but it'll still be ridiculously powerful.

I've heard rumors that somewhere in Cerulean Cave is a dangerously powerful pokemon. It may be Mewtwo, it may not be, but it would be worth checking out.

I glance at the table one last time, before turning away and moving towards the door of the penthouse. But as I do, a flash of light bursts to life behind me and I hear a strange pokemon cry.

I whirl around, my eyes searching the penthouse, but I can't see a pokemon. But the rock from the table is gone.

My eyes widen. How... where did it go? Maybe there really  _is_ someone hiding in here...

But if that's the case, why haven't they confronted me for stealing their masterball?

A shiver darts up my spine. I turn and run out the penthouse, my body stiffening. When I'm outside I hurry towards the edge of the roof, looking across the horizon towards where Cerulean City would be. I can see skyscrapers in the distance; I assume that must be it.

Mewtwo, I'm coming for you.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading, and don't forget to hit kudos and/or comment ^_^


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